I have a moment of peace right now. It's naptime, freshly baked ginger snap cookies are cooling on the countertop, and pandora.com is soothing me with ballads from the likes of Allison Krauss and Patty Griffin.
This is the only moment of peace I've had so far today. It's been a day full of pain and I'm so very exhausted but I find that my desire to write has finally returned after a several month hiatus. Depleted beyond words I've had nothing to say. Nothing intelligible, anyway, as the tides of continuous grief have swept over and over again. We lost another baby in July and the following two months were consumed with almost insurmountable anger. I do not ever want to experience pain like this again. My faith has been bloodied and I've begun to live in expectation of grief rather than joy. I expect pain rather than blessings and am not sure what to do with that. I'm disappointed that this is what I've become and wonder just exactly what God thinks of me.
But even as I write words come to me, "He remembers that we are dust". So now I'm going to Google that to find the full passage...
Here we go:
The LORD is compassionate and gracious, slow to anger, abounding in love.
He will not always accuse, nor will he harbor his anger forever; he does not treat us as our sins deserve or repay us according to our iniquities.
For as high as the heavens are above the earth, so great is his love for those who fear him; as far as the east is from the west, so far has he removed our transgressions from us.
As a father has compassion on his children, so the LORD has compassion on those who fear him;
for he knows how we are formed, he remembers that we are dust (Psalm 103:8-14).
My prayer lately is that I would be able to experience God's love in a tangible way rather than His seemingly painful sovereignty. I'm still waiting and wondering how much of my own junk is getting in the way. I can see God's love in all the "generic" ways- job, home, health, etc. But is it okay to say that right now I want more? Sometimes I even feel entitled to it, like God has to give in order to make right what went so wrong this year. So here I am, dust, having entitlement issues. THAT, I feel, is my biggest hurdle. When did I start feeling like I deserved anything good? But when has God ever been in the business of treating people as they deserved, whether good or not?
I find myself vascillating between the behavior of the brothers in the parable of the prodigal son. Wanting what I want when I want it, I storm away and pretend that what I'm pursuing is going to replace not only my desire but being in close relationship with the father. Other times I sit in my disappointed entitlement and can't believe why God wouldn't honor my obedience, my years of doing what was "right", my faithfulness. But both are on my terms, aren't they? I know I'm not supposed to be either brother, but what I'm supposed to be is elusive at best.
So I'll eat my fresh cookies, perhaps even make myself another pot of coffee, and continue to pray that God shows me what in the world to do with myself all the while hoping this precious moment of peace will carry me through the rest of the day.